


Before the fall

by Nary



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Creepy, F/M, Future Fic, Hate Sex, Incest, Mutilation, Sexual Violence, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-07
Updated: 2011-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-19 02:11:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Asha would say that she intends to kill her uncle herself because she's not willing to put any of her crew in such danger - for it will be unspeakably dangerous, she knows. And that might be partly true. But the full truth is that she wants to see his face when she twists the knife in his throat, and for him to see hers in the moment before he dies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Before the fall

Asha would say that she intends to kill her uncle herself because she's not willing to put any of her crew in such danger - for it will be unspeakably dangerous, she knows. And that might be partly true. But the full truth is that she wants to see his face when she twists the knife in his throat, and for him to see hers in the moment before he dies.

Euron sleeps with his window open. He is, after all, a true ironborn man, whatever else he's become since, who needs to feel the wind on his skin and smell the sea to have any hope of rest. It makes her task... not easy, but at least possible. Her fingers and feet, sticky with tar, find the crevices in the wall that will let her scale the distance up the tower to where he takes his rest. It takes longer than she'd anticipated, and by the time she reaches his window, her muscles are screaming.

He has a woman with him. Asha grits her teeth and considers killing her too, but she's weeping, so she's probably not there willingly. One of Lord Hewett's daughters, maybe, or a servant girl. It doesn't matter. Despite her aching muscles, Asha won't kill the girl for being raped at an inconvenient time. She settles herself on the ledge as best as she can, wedging her toes and fingers into gaps between the stones, and waits.

It seems to take forever. At least the girl quiets down to the occasional whimper after a while. Finally, though she hasn't heard him climax, Euron speaks. "Enough. Get out." A hasty shuffle from within, and the door opening and then closing again, the bolt sliding home.

Asha's legs are close to giving out; she won't be able to wait until he falls asleep the way she'd planned to. She knows that it's now or never. She braces herself, works her knife out of its sheath and grips it between her teeth, tenses and relaxes her leg muscles until some feeling comes back into them, waiting for her moment, when she hears his voice speaking directly to her. "Come in, niece. Or stay there and fall, it makes no matter to me." It shakes her, wondering whether he's known she was there all along, and her hand, sweating, slips against the stone. Leaning out the window, he grasps her by the wrist before she can fall, and pulls her in so hard it makes her shoulder sear with pain and the blade between her teeth fall to the floor - though not before it's cut her lip open.

She sits on the floor, catching her breath, tasting her own blood, and rubbing her arm. The Crow's Eye seems unconcerned about her presence, not even bothering to cover his nakedness. It's disconcerting to see that he's aroused, cock jutting hard and thick up toward his stomach, still slick with the woman's juices, and so she says the first thing that comes into her head. "Why'd you send the girl away if you hadn't finished with her?"

Her uncle shrugs. "She bored me. She stopped fighting back." She sees a glint in his single eye. "But you... you'd struggle, wouldn't you, Asha. You wouldn't lie back and weep at the world's cruelty while I fuck you."

He approaches her, kicking her dagger across the floor as he goes, blue lips spread in a terrible grin, and she finds herself suddenly unable to move, whether to dive for her knife or back away or throw herself onto him. He hauls her to her feet, presses her back against the cold stone wall, and it's all she can do not to scream. His fingers find their way into her leathers, down her stomach, making her shiver with gooseflesh. She can smell the wine on his breath, and an undertone of something else, something more foul. And yet, when he worms his fingers into her slit, she feels herself starting to grow wet for him, feels her hips twitch ever so slightly. Disgusted with herself even more than with him, she takes refuge in her sharp tongue. "Give me my blade and I'll show you how I fight back, Crow's Eye."

He only laughs and presses harder on her clit, making her gasp and her eyes water. "I'm sure the Targaryens must have wed uncle to niece at some point. I can't make you my queen, of course, that position is reserved for another. But I could keep you as a salt wife. You could mend my shirts and bear me a bastard every year. How would you like that, girl?"

She reaches up to hit him, but he's too fast - he grabs her wrist, twists it until she cries out, and then licks slowly along the tender skin, nipping at the base of her thumb. His tongue is blue as well, she notices incongruously amid the dizzying mix of sensations.

Her leathers are around her knees, hobbling her, so she steps out of them, the better to move swiftly if she gets the chance. But spreading her legs lets him lift her thigh to a painful angle and force his cock halfway inside her. She does struggle then, even though she knows it's only serving to excite him further, and manages to land a punch in his kidney, hard enough to make him wince. "Don't make me bind you, Asha," he warns through gritted teeth, grabbing her other wrist and pulling them up above her head, drawing her onto tiptoes even as he slides into her the rest of the way.

All her weight feels as though it's being balanced on the length of his cock, and her legs are trembling as he strokes into her a second time. She moans and bides her time, hoping he'll sate himself quickly and give her back the advantage. She tries to send her mind elsewhere, but it refuses adamantly to look away from what's happening to her.

It takes longer than she'd hoped, but finally she hears his breath grow ragged, feels his muscles tense and tremble as he spills his seed into her. It's what she's been waiting for. His grip on her hands slips enough for her to jerk one free and jab her thumb straight into his remaining eye. It gives beneath her nail as easily as popping the air bladder on a piece of kelp, and she smiles in grim satisfaction as he screams, holding his hands to his face and staggering away from her.

She slides along the wall to find her knife, lying forgotten in the corner. Her hands are steady when she picks it up. Her uncle is cursing her, shouting for his men, and she knows she only has a few moments to complete her revenge. Still, Asha circles around him warily, for he's thrashing about like a speared whale, still dangerous despite his injury. She darts in to stab him in the side and he lashes out in her direction, grabbing her about the waist with one thick arm. They struggle together and he forces her back against the window, trying to throw her out.

Leaning backwards out the window, Asha looks into his empty socket and is disappointed that he can't see her. Then, calmly, she slides her blade behind his windpipe and opens his throat. The blood that sprays her is red, not blue, and she can't help laughing even as his arm gives way. The sea will welcome her, she thinks in the few moments it takes to fall.


End file.
